Superiority Complex
by Hawki
Summary: Oneshot: Garithos wasn't upset to see Quel'Thalas secede from the Alliance. If anything, he saw it as an opportunity. One that Uther didn't share.


**Superiority Complex**

Even though he wasn't a native of Lordaeron, Uther had no problem admitting that Capital City's throne room was far more ornate than the one in Stormwind had ever been.

In fact, the same could be said for the whole city. Stormwind, both the kingdom and its capital, had their names derived from the powerful winds that would beset their land from the sea. Stormwind was harsh. Functional. Form had a place in that function, but the function always had to come first. Lordaeron however, had considered itself a bastion of arts and culture for centuries, so far removed from the "barbarous" lands of the south according to some of its less reputable artists and leaders. Still, an idea was hard to kill, and Uther could see it here. The way the sun's light streamed in from the opening in the ceiling above. The way the gold was interwoven with the columns and walls. The throne for the king, above which were balconies for an ambassador from each of the continent's kingdoms. Those of Man. Those of other races. New additions ordered by King Terenas himself after the Second War, to better facilitate cooperation between the peoples of the world. Lordaeron was the birthplace of the Alliance, come screaming into the world as howls from the south echoed across the winds. Now, the child was reaching adulthood, and already was having problems.

Problems Uther had been called here today to address, along with every other ambassador. Though stepping into the throne room now, he realized he was early. Because the chamber was completely deserted bar one man, standing near the throne. Admiring it as one might a sculpture. A man whose mere presence gave Uther pause, but simultaneously compelled him to walk up to throne and man both. To say, "does it please you, Lord Garithos?"

The knight looked back at Uther, a look of surprise on his features at first, but quickly replaced by that self-satisfied, smug look he carried everywhere he walked. "Sir Uther," he murmured. He looked up at the sky-portal above. "Funny. I thought we already had enough light here without you coming to preach."

"Not to preach, Lord Garithos. To speak on recent matters."

The knight looked at Uther and snorted. "From a paladin? I didn't think there was much difference."

"Well, of course, ignorance thrives in darkness. One's mind cannot always be so bright as to behold the intricacies of Creation."

Garithos's eyes narrowed and Uther suppressed the urge to smile. He knew it was beneath him, taking pleasure in verbal barbs like this, but even a knight of the Silver Hand wasn't flawless. And against a knight whose entire personality was based on flaws? This was a battle he could take part in.

Garithos walked past Uther, but not out of the throne room. "I take it you're here for the king's session?"

"I am. And you?"

Garithos looked back at Uther with a smirk. "I am. Though, I must admit, I have little to say apart from 'I told you so.'"

Uther kept his gaze impassive. "Is that really all?"

"Well, one might raise question about other…peoples remaining as part of this alliance, but the departure of the high elves sets a precedent than even the blind can see." He paused, looking at Uther like a lord might a peasant. "Or those whose eyes are ever upward."

Uther said nothing. Not because he had nothing to say. But because those things were far too unbecoming.

"You know it's funny," Garithos said, as he continued to walk around the throne room like a wolf around sheep. "The Alliance was more or less born here. Now, we get to watch it die."

"Or we do our duty and try and keep it intact," Uther said.

"Duty," Garithos snorted. He looked at the paladin. "Where's your duty, Uther? You live your life as a holy man in Northshire, then get it into your head that the Light is something to be swung, and now you're prancing around the kingdoms with a bunch of fancy knights who, despite all their nice words, still need to get their money from somewhere."

"Are our deeds taxing you so much, Garithos?"

"Yes," the knight said bluntly. "Along with Terenas's imbecilic internment camp idea. We're feeding the very monsters that tried to kill us all, and he expects people like us to go along with it."

Uther frowned. 'People like us.' He hoped that Garithos didn't consider him to be part of the 'us' category there.

But still, he thought, Garithos might be right. The Alliance had been born in Lordaeron. The course of the next few weeks, nay, _days_, might decide what would become of it. Because one day ago, King Anasterian Sunstrider had made the announcement that Quel'Thalas would secede from the Alliance. It had honoured its blood pact with Sir Lothar. It had sent its warriors to fight and die in human lands, not to mention beyond the Dark Portal itself. "Short-sighted, mortal leadership" had cost Quel'Thalas dearly, Anasterian had claimed, and he had no interest in tying his lands to human affairs any longer, despite the hundreds who had given their lives to defend the elven kingdom, as Terenas has pointed out a sunrise ago. Uther, even if he was loathe to admit it, knew that Quel'Thalas's secession could set off a chain of events that could see Terenas's dream shattered.

He looked at Garithos. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"What? The knowledge that those donkey-eared twats are gone? Yes, I am. They can leave, and take their superiority complex with them."

Uther forced a smile. "Creatures who are longer-lived, more capable of using magic, who've maintained their kingdom from days before even the days of Thoradin? One might say that they have reason for the complex."

"One might," Garithos said. "And I might grow a third arm!" He tapped his black plate mail with his right hand, while clutching the hilt of his sword with his left. "Don't tell me you haven't seen elven arrogance yourself, Uther."

"I've seen arrogance from many people," Uther murmured, giving Garithos a hard look.

Garithos, for all his bluster, wasn't stupid, Uther reflected. Or at least not so stupid for something to register in his eyes, for the grip on his sword to momentarily tighten, let out a "bah," and turn his back to Uther. The paladin watched as the knight's eyes lingered on the balconies above. Specifically those reserved for the ambassadors for Khaz Modan and Gnomeregan. Non-humans. "Other people," as Garithos might call them.

"Why are you really here, Garithos?" Uther murmured.

Garithos said nothing. He just stood there, looking up at the balconies.

"The elves have already left," Uther said. "You wouldn't be here just to dance on the ashes."

"Ashes," Garithos murmured. He looked at Uther. "What do you know of ashes?"

"As someone who saw their country burn at the hand of the orcs, a lot."

Something like humility briefly registered on Garithos's face, but it disappeared within a second.

"As I said," Uther continued. "You wouldn't be here just to gloat."

"Such flattery," Garithos sneered. "I didn't think you had such a high opinion of me."

"I don't."

Garithos frowned. "Very well. Since we're being honest with each other, I'll tell you the truth. I think the Knights of the Silver Hand should be disbanded, and that you're too close to King Terenas. Because no matter what you claim, Sir Uther, you're a man of Stormwind – a land so arrogant it once called itself the Kingdom of Azeroth. You've got a boy king on the throne, and yet your attentions are focused on our own prince."

Uther's gaze narrowed. "Prince Arthas is-"

"But while we're still being honest with each other," Garithos continued, "I'll let you in on my little secret. The Alliance needs to end. I'm here to speed it along."

Uther stared at him. He'd heard madness spoken before. But usually from ones who wielded magic rather than blades.

"It's long past its necessity," Garithos said. "The Horde is defeated. The orcs are either in camps, or running around like gnolls in their little warbands. Terenas was the king of Lordaeron, now he fancies himself an emperor. Worst, he breaks bread with non-humans. Yes, call me what you will, Sir Uther, we know the truth. The Alliance was founded by a man. Men should end it. The sooner that happens, the sooner our sovereignty is restored."

Uther, very slowly, very softly, said, "you're a man of Lordaeron," he said.

"I am. Which is why I'm putting my kingdom first, Sir Uther. If you had any pride in yours, you'd do the same."

"Aiden Perenolde put Alterac before anything else," Uther whispered. "Remember what happened to him?"

Garithos scowled. "Only too well. We keep monsters alive while Alterac is left in ruins." The scowl disappeared and he smiled at Uther, patting him on the shoulder. "Of course, those are just my words. Words spoken as a true man of Lordaeron who wants what's best for his people. Surely you can understand?"

Uther, trying to smile and instead grimacing, uttered, "of course." He gently took Garithos's hand off his shoulder. "Though you will of course understand why I will argue for the opposite point. That the Alliance should remain a staple of the continent. For men, and…those who do not call themselves human."

"And that is good to know, Sir Uther."

The words were not from Garithos. Rather, it was the man who was walking into the chamber, flanked by two members of his personal guard. The man whom both knights turned and looked towards. King Terenas II Menethil. King of Lordaeron, and Grand Patron of the Alliance.

Uther bowed. "Your grace."

Garithos put a hand to his chest and gave an even grand bow. "Your grace."

Terenas smiled, and Uther noticed that he was looking more at him rather than Garithos. He smiled back, but he couldn't help but notice how age was taking its toll on the king. His step was slower. His skin was more wrinkled. His hair was getting longer, and wispier. Uther had no doubt that history would look kindly on Terenas, but he couldn't deny that the peoples' attention was far more focused on his son. Nevertheless, Terenas gave him a quick embrace, and Uther returned it.

"It is good to see you again, Uther," Terenas said. His smile faded slightly as he looked up to the balcony where the elven ambassador had once stood. "Though one might wish it was under better circumstances."

Uther nodded. "One might."

"Indeed," Garithos said, unable to hide the resentment in his voice. "Still, these are early days. The elves have left the Alliance. I have no doubt that we can chart a path that will allow Lordaeron to emerge brighter than before."

Terenas slowly looked at Garithos, and in a soft voice, said, "no doubt indeed."

"Indeed," Garithos said eagerly. "I mean, with the elves gone, and with Stromgarde and Gilneas on the verge of abandoning us, I can only say that-"

"That we will make all such endeavour to ensure that the Alliance formed in our darkest hour will not fade. That our moment of unity will shine for a thousand years and demonstrate the worth of cooperation between our lands rather than competition." Terenas looked at Uther. "Do you not agree?"

Uther couldn't help but smile. "Of course, your grace. Categorically."

"I thought so." Terenas smiled and began walking to his throne. "Now do get ready. We have a whole day of discussions ahead of us, and you know how Genn can be."

"Of course, your grace," Uther said. He looked at Garithos and smiled. "Don't we all?"

Garithos said nothing.


End file.
